Once Upon a Time
by older-love
Summary: Everyone has a love story. This one is Voldemort's. Hi, I'm Noel Stone, aka The One Who Fell in Love With That Crazy Psychopath.


**Summary: The story of the girl that fell in love with Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort. At the end of Book Seven, (SPOILER) Harry says that Voldemort "never knew love." Harry was wrong. Voldemort was loved, and he loved in return. This is the story.**

**Damn, I suck at summaries.**

**Rated T for mild language and suggestive themes.**

**A/N: Just a warning—I am American. I have an American way of speaking. I try to sound English sometimes, but I really just fail at it, so if it sounds like that in my writing, I hereby officially apologize. **

**I don't own HP, obviously. I'll say that once and only once, and I just did, so I'm done.**

_Once Upon a Time_

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_Chapter 1: What You Wouldn't Expect out of Voldemort_

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Well, this is kind of awkward. I'm not really sure where to start. I mean, how does one begin the tale of how one fell in love with the greatest villain of all time, am I right? But I suppose that's the thing: he wasn't the greatest villain of all time at one point. Okay, so he did end up killing a lot of people, and splitting his soul, and stealing, and lying, and creating horcruxes, and became the terror of the wizarding world, and doing a lot of messed up shit…wait, where was I going with this? Oh, right—so he may have done some pretty bad stuff. But he wasn't like that all his life. Once upon a time, he was normal. Once upon a time, he went to Hogwarts.

Once upon a time, he was Tom Riddle.

Now, I know what you're thinking. He couldn't have just turned into Voldemort overnight, like _poof_; he's bat-shit crazy, right? And for some of you out there, yes, I DID just say Voldemort. I'm done with this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named crap. Anyway, no, his reign of terror didn't just manifest in a few hours. I never said it did. But he wasn't always evil, as many may believe.

You know what he did? He went out with friends. He went to dances. He went to Hogsmeade, he went to grab a butterbeer every now and again, he went home for the holidays, he became a prefect, he became Head Boy, he did his homework, and he took his OWLS and NEWTS, like a good little boy.

And Mr. Big Scary Voldemort fell in love. With me.

I loved Lord Voldemort. It has a ring to it, doesn't it? Sure, perhaps a twisted, strange, deformed ring, but a ring nonetheless. And I did love him. I loved him with everything I had. My heart, my body, my brain, my soul—everything was his, and his to keep. I can't deny that I still have some, albeit small, feelings for him, but that's just love; it never really dies if it's true.

And you know what? He loved me. Goddamn it, that boy loved me, too. I still have the necklace he gave me—wait, no, he took that (don't worry; I'll get to that later). But I do have the ring. The beautiful, huge diamond ring. I wear it every day.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I should start from the beginning, shouldn't I?

It was a dark and stormy night. No, really, I'm not joking. A massive thunderstorm was booming away outside while I was safely locked away in my bedroom with my roommate, Kayce (if anyone pronounces it Kay-see, I'll kill you, because it's pronounced Case. It sounds like Case, alright? Don't make me kill you.). The light in our room was dim and flickering, thanks to the pathetic, scrawny candles they made us use as a light source, but the lightning outside illuminated the space into brilliance every so often. A late summer storm, that's what it was.

We were cute little fourth years. God, I love fourth years; they still possess the child-like qualities of a first year, with their eyes wide and gleaming, but have long since become used to the crazy ways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Take out all the pitiful drama of their little lives, and they're the best thing to happen since microwavable popcorn (great muggle invention, I've got to say).

Kayce was sprawled out upon her large bed, tracing the red and gold contours of her Gryffindor comforter. Now time out, I know what you're thinking: Voldemort would never even associate with a Gryffindor. And I'll just say this in response: having nearly all your classes with a person can really force the two of you to get to know each other, and perhaps to even like each other. Enough said.

"Ugh, can we please take a break, Noel?" she begged me, letting her head droop into the soft fabric. "I'm so tired."

"We need to get everything organized," I was bustling around the room and putting things in their place. Gosh, I was such a neat freak; books were stacked neatly into bookshelves, our clothes were hanging pin-straight in the closets, and our trunks were placed just so at the end of our beds.

"We just got to Hogwarts," she complained. "We haven't even eaten dinner yet, and you're up and running around, making sure everything's perfect."

"You'll thank me when you can see the floor," I quipped as I laid our brooms in the corner of the room.

"I swear, you should've been sorted into Ravenclaw," she said, the smile clear in her voice. Though it was meant to be a joke, the statement kind of hurt. I wasn't exactly the model Gryffindor, you see. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I had the intelligence and cleverness of a Ravenclaw. I was warm-hearted like a Hufflepuff, and yet had half the mindset of a Slytherin. The only thing I was missing was the elements of a Gryffindor, and yet here I was, just chilling in my Gryffindor bedroom. The Sorting Hat hadn't hesitated when it pronounced me a Gryffindor, and it had whispered softly into my ear, "I see a great adventure within you." But where was it? Where was this awesome escapade I was supposed to embark on?

Yeah, little innocent me had no idea what was to come. Now that I'm older, it's very clear what my adventure was, and I've got to say that I did face it with bravery.

"Oh, don't even," I retorted with a fake snicker. "Come on, let's get to dinner. And could you try not to eat all the treacle tarts this time?"

"But they're so tasty!" With that, she hopped off the bed, and we were out the door. I was quietly grateful that the time for eating had come upon us; it unknowingly saved me from having to discuss with my friend how I was such a pathetic Gryffindor.

We were in the dining hall in no time, thanks to the massive flood of students headed in the same direction. It was like being carried on the wind; we were just swept away to our destination. If I could travel by that instead of foot or broom, I so would. Anyway, we entered the Great Hall, and there were the four tables laid out before us, plate upon massive plate expanding along the wood. The candles hovered just above our heads, and the storm was reflected in the ceiling, thunder snarling and lightning demanding attention.

I can officially say now that the Great Hall is probably the most amazing place I've ever been. Not even Hogwarts itself is cooler than the Great Hall. That place was so trippy, I can't even describe it.

"Noel! Kayce!" a voice hollered. When I turned in its direction, I was greeted with the sight of Blake Rhymes, my best guy friend. His hand was waving frantically in the air, so it looked like his arm was having a seizure. The two of us nearly peed our pants when he came too close to elbowing Neetha in the face. To end his torture, we quickly strode over to our group.

"Hey guys," I said as we sat down, taking our places between Beckil and Nayson. Beckil gave me a quick hug, and her bangs nearly scratched my eyes out, but Nayson was too busy jabbering with his twin across the table, or poor Neetha.

"Blake!" Kayce squealed, practically leaping over the table to throw her arms around the boy. But instead of being freaked out, he enthusiastically hugged her back. Then she _really_ almost ended up on the other side of the table.

_Save the food!_ The Gryffindor Inside Me screamed, so I bravely grabbed my friend by the calves and yanked her back to my side before she could knock over any of the savory meats or delicious mashed potatoes.

In case it's not readily apparent, I was always looking for ways to make myself seem like a Gryffindor. Don't laugh at me, I know it's pathetic.

"You're such a dumb blonde," I scolded her, smacking her lightly upside the head. In retaliation, she poked me in my side, causing me to jump and squeak, but nobody paid any heed; they all knew that I spasmed whenever someone pinched my side, so they brushed it off.

"How was everyone's summer?" Kayce called out. She immediately captured everyone's attention as they jockeyed for having their turn in the spotlight, eager to recount their boundless tales.

"Oh my gosh, okay so—"

"My brother and I were SO crazy this year—"

"You don't even want to _know_ what I did—"

"I thought I was pregnant—"

"She was smoking hot—"

"And then everything just blew up right in my face—"

Blake leaned over the table, whispering to us. "Watch this. It's the best way to silence a crowd." He sat back down, cast one look around himself, and then spoke.

"I killed a man," he said quietly with a downcast of his eyes. All conversation halted abruptly at the Gryffindor table as everyone stared at Blake. His green eyes shimmered in delight as he peeked through the shaggy fringe of his bright blonde hair, but he kept his mouth stuck in a severe pout.

Several seconds of silence passed amongst us, and because of this, the rest of the Great Hall settled into a hush as well.

"What?" came a disturbed voice from a little down the table. After a beat, the three of us burst into hysterical laughter, which seemed to act as a trigger that set off the rest of the Hall to return to its normal conversation.

"I was kidding," Blake called to whoever had asked. "Calm down."

"But really, how was your summer?" Kayce asked. The girl was positively head over heels for Blake. My God, you should see her diary! Not that I looked in it or anything…psh…it wasn't just laying out on her bed…so tempting and thick with her girlish scrawl…pfft…I wouldn't be that terrible…how dare you suggest such a thing?....

Okay, one peek never hurt anyone.

"Eh, the usual," he waved it away with a shrug. "Mum and Dad kept me practically chained to the two of them. What did they think I was going to do, go knock some poor girl up?"

"I wouldn't put it past you, Blake," I said casually. He tossed a smirk at me.

"And what was your super summer adventure, Miss Perfect Gryffindor?" he retaliated.

"Oh, ouch, Blake, that one hurt," I fake-winced. He apologized, made a pouty-face, then reached over and rubbed my cheek as if he was trying to sooth my tattered nerves. I wasted no time it swatting his hand away. I was certain that if I could've just seen Kayce's face at that time, I would've been seriously worried she was going to shove an axe down my throat in the middle of the night.

"Attention, students!" a deep, warm voice boomed. Everyone immediately shushed up and turned to face the head of the Great Hall. It was automatic now; we all knew where to look, considering everyone knew the voice very well.

A great, bearded Headmaster stood behind his pedestal, grinning placidly at us all, but a certain old man was smiling at me in particular. Professor Dumbledore was seated a little beside the Headmaster, his blue-eyed gaze locked on me. I grinned back at him. Such a sweet man, I tell you. Sure, go on and call him eccentric, perhaps even crazy if you wish. But you know what? It'll take you a thousand years to do enough good deeds to be half the man he is. Or was, I should say.

He went on his little spiel, then went into sorting, and then he made his big speech. We got a lot of superawesome first years, and hah-hah to Slytherin, because they got the lame ones…okay, so maybe I'm a bit biased. But seriously, our first years were really cool. Like, really cool. They were funny. I liked them immediately.

You know, I really don't remember the whole ceremony and talk that the Headmaster gave. It was just like every other year, so it was really nothing special. But I do remember one thing; it's branded into my mind for the rest of my life, no doubt. Even when I'm on my deathbed, I'll remember it. It was the biggest moment of my life.

It was the moment I met Tom Riddle.

We were strolling back to our rooms out of the Great Hall, our bellies full and smiles on our faces. It was always the best feeling after dinner. You just felt whole and mirthful. Anyway, so here we were, walking, minding our own business. I was fingering my glistening prefect pin absentmindedly, off in my own little world, not really paying attention. And then, _SMACK_! I sauntered right into someone.

Note to self: never, ever, EVER space out again. Ever. You may end up walking into someone that'll change your life forever.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," I apologized, backing away quickly. And then I looked into the most beautiful pair of brown eyes I'd ever seen.

He was positively gorgeous. His hair was a dark chestnut, shaggy yet neat, and fell just so against his brow as it danced along his black eyelashes. Porcelain skin covered the planes of his perfect, angular face, gliding over his straight nose and around his full pink lips. But his eyes were what got me. They were stony without being cold, inquisitive without being prodding, and soft without being warm

The boy was full of contradictions. If only I could've taken a hint from his incredible orbs and planned my cunning escape. Maybe it really _was_ because I was a Gryffindor that I didn't run away.

"It's perfectly fine," he said, his voice low and quiet. We just stared at each other for a bit. I don't know what _he_ was staring at; I'm really not much to look at. But I know that I was staring at him being ridiculously good-looking. I was gawking, actually. Never had I ever seen someone so handsome before.

Something warm wrapped around my fingers, and it was strange to me that I didn't even think that it was his hand. I mean, sure, we'd just met each other, but there was something there. There was definitely _some_thing there. Even he couldn't deny it, though I hadn't asked him.

"Come on, Noel," someone said. "We've got to go."

"Hello, Blake," the boy greeted, not looking away from me.

"Riddle," Blake grumbled, and then gave my hand an insistent tug. "Come on, Noel." With that, he yanked me away. I cast one last, long look at the boy, and he was looking back at me. His dark eyes had followed my path, though he hadn't moved his head an inch.

Creepy? A little. But I didn't care.

"Who was that?" I hissed to Blake, retrieving my arm. There wasn't a second of doubt within me; that boy was the single hottest thing I'd ever seen. My body was tingling everywhere, especially my chest, where I'd smacked into him, and my head was wheeling.

"Tom Riddle," he snarled. He'd grown considerably darker since dragging me away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Kayce said, throwing her hands up. "Time out here. What do you have against him, Blake? I've seen the bloke, like, three times in our four years here."

"Yeah," I eyed my friend. "And I've never seen him before. Why's he got your knickers in a bunch?" Blake pouted, tucking his hands into his robes with a huff.

"He gives me the creeps, is all," he admitted grudgingly. "We had to sit next to each other in Transfiguration last year, and it just seems like he…knows everything. I hate it. I hate him."

"Okay, so let me get this straight," I said. "You don't know him on a personal level, and yet you hate him because he…gives you the creeps?" Kayce burst out laughing, delicately crossing her hands over her flat stomach.

I wish we hadn't laughed. It doesn't seem too far fetched now, does it?

"You know what?" he growled. "Sod off, you two, I'm going to my room." We entered the common room, and he did indeed scurry away despite our yells of protest.

"Oh, let him go," I laid a hand on Kayce's shoulder, stopping her mid-plea. "He's obviously not in the mood any longer." Her face slipped into a mask of sadness, and all the way up to our rooms, I consoled her, insisting that it was my fault and not hers. After all, I'd been the one to run into the freaking gorgeous boy.

I'm sorry, am I moving too fast? I know I'm rushing through details, but honestly, my memory's a bit fuzzy. All that is crystal clear in my head is the time I spent with Tom. Oh dear, there I go, getting ahead of myself again.

See, the thing was that it was automatic. It's not like it took two, maybe even three times for us to see each other and create something. The spark was there. The chemistry was there. It was literally like I'd met my soul mate, my other half. Ugh, gosh, I'm disgustingly mushy and you haven't even heard the half of it. I'm sorry for turning into a pile of apple sauce before you.

I still had yet to get my classes.

This should be fun.

**More? Or should I just, like, quit life? If I get like five reviews, I'll write more, but I doubt I'll get even one.**


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